


Vignettes II

by ayatsujik



Category: Natsume Yuujinchou | Natsume's Book of Friends
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-05
Updated: 2017-12-09
Packaged: 2019-01-09 09:35:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 3,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12273726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ayatsujik/pseuds/ayatsujik
Summary: Random snippets, mainly about Natori and Natsume, but also with Natori's other relationships (and anything else too short for a standalone that gets written).1. Sparkles Society Is A Lifetime Membership [Natsume/Natori, Nyanko-sensei]2. Script Rewrites [Natori/Natsume]3. Secret Secret [Natsume, Tanuma/Taki]4. Frayed Ends [Matoba + Natori]5. Interlude [Yorishima/Natori]6. Ishida Akira Can't Sing [Natsume/Natori, Tanuma, Nyanko-sensei]7. Slip of the Tongue [Natori/Natsume] [explicit]





	1. Sparkles Society Is A Lifetime Membership

 

No one else besides Nyanko-sensei could ever know, least of all the actor concerned, but Natsume had reached a point where he'd consumed more media starring Natori Shuuichi in it than anyone else - anyone else who wasn't in the official fan club, at least.

He wasn't a *fan*, Natsume told himself. That was the wrong word. It definitely wasn't like that.

All of it just...happened. With apparently increasing frequency, yes. But he really didn't think any of it was his fault.

After all, he got a free ticket for each of the movies, which would be a waste not to use, wouldn't it? The CDs were borrowed from Taki or Sasada, who offered to lend them in the first place, and it wasn't nice that Tanuma and Kitamoto and Nishimura almost always said no, was it? Besides, he watched the dramas with Touko, because he knew she liked it when he did. And he got sent promotional flyers for various things from Natori's agency, following that studio visit he'd made with his schoolfriends. (It was perfectly reasonable not to throw them away: he had a strong, inexplicable sense, against all proof, that doing so would have been rude to Natori. It also felt nice and grown-up, somehow, to receive things personally addressed to him. No one else sent him mail.)

And, and. With regards to the interviews and photo spreads, if he happened to be in a convenience store and their magazine rack had an issue with Natori's face on the cover, well, what was the harm in browsing something right in front of him? As for the commercials, they showed up of their own accord during Shigeru's news or documentary programs, or on random TV screens in town stores, didn't they? Much like their star did, for that matter.

They'd been running into each other a lot, these days. For some reason. Not to mention the times they actually arranged to meet, usually at Natori's request, for some assignment or other.

"Let's see now...this is called, hrm, 'stocking', is it? No, what was it...'stalking'?" Nyanko-sensei inquired, sanguinely.

"NO! Don't make me sound like a freak!"

"What are you getting all red and upset for? That brat's more of a freak than you'll ever be, anyway."

"Never mind, all right?"

"Aha, I know this, too, it's that 'adolescence' thing, eh? I see, I see. What delicate creatures you humans are."

"...Leave me *alone*, sensei."

Whether he liked it or not, Natori Shuuichi was inexplicably becoming a regular presence in his nights. He'd recently come to the uncomfortable realisation that he couldn't count the number of times he'd fallen asleep with the low, light sounds of his voice in his ears, or visions of his clean-cut face, crossed by a small, ink-black shadow.

I can't help that either, Natsume thought. Honestly, it's all his fault.

Somewhere on set, Natori sneezed.

 

[note: the visit to Natori's studio references the special drama track from LaLa Magazine in 2009 where Natsume, Tanuma, Taki, Kitamoto and Nishimura visit Natori during a shoot (and Natsume briefly ends up playing the romantic interest in the script, all for a Reason, of course).)]


	2. Script Rewrites

 

"I don't want you to kiss me the way you do all those actresses."

"Oh? How should I do it, then?"

Natsume reached up and pulled his head down.

Conversation ceased for a full minute.

"Like that, Shuuichi-san," he said, after letting go.

Natori - for the first time in his adult life, and possibly his entire existence to date - blushed.

Natsume waited for him to exit short-circuit, with a smile too sweet to be a smirk, precisely, but which was definitely more than halfway there.

 

[bonus: [art by maja](https://twitter.com/killjoyras/status/913507734661816320/photo/1)!]


	3. Secret Secret

 

"Natsume," Tanuma said, staring straight at him. "Be honest."

"Yes, yes, Natsume-kun," Taki said, bobbing her head intently. "Tell us honestly."

"Uh, Tanuma? Taki? W-what's wrong? What do you want me to be honest about?"

"Natori Shuuichi," Tanuma said, and coughed, uncomfortably. "You know."

"Natori-san? Huh? What about him?"

"Don't pretend, Natsume-kun! You know!"

"No, seriously, I *really* don't. What on earth's gotten into you two?"

Tanuma sighed, scratching his head. "...Look, the other day Taki and I happened to see the two of you together in the forest, all right?" Another cough. "You and Natori-san, I mean."

"...So?"

"So, you were, well. Close. Really close. Together. Do I have to describe this to you? Because I'd rather not, it's embarrassing."

Natsume felt sweat collect under the collar of his uniform shirt.

"Natsume-kun!" Taki snapped, hands clenched into fists. "You're dating Natori Shuuichi, aren't you? _That_ Natori Shuuichi. Admit it already!"

All the colour drained from Natsume's face.

" _Natsume_ ," Tanuma said, reaching out to grip his shoulders. His eyes softened. "Don't look like that. It's not - we're fine with it." He glanced over at his fellow interrogator. "We won't tell anyone else, either, will we, Taki?"

"Nuh-uh, of course not," Taki said, radiating earnestness like a small sun. "Natsume-kun, don't worry!"

"I don't know, you're the ones who seem worried, not me," Natsume said, and tried to smile at them. "You...you really don't mind?"

"Tanuma-kun!" Taki half-squealed, clapping one hand over her mouth and yanking his sleeve with the other. "They - they really are going out!"

"Of course they are," Tanuma said, giving her a wry smile. He turned back to Natsume, raising a brow. "I don't know about Natori-san, but Natsume wouldn't just kiss anyone for fun, would you, Natsume?"

"TANUMA," Natsume said desperately, his present face a study in scarlet. "Just leave it, OK?"

"But, but, I mean!" Taki said, flailing at him with her fists. "It's _Natori Shuuichi_! The King of Sparkles! How, Natsume-kun? Since when? If Sasada-chan ever finds out, or any of his other, like, million female fans, you're so dead!"

"I think Taki here is actually kind of excited about you two, though, so that much is fine." Tanuma broke in, and grinned knowingly.

Taki was also blushing, now. Natsume thought about asking, but decided he really didn't want to know why.

"Listen, Natsume," Tanuma said, strengthening his grip on his shoulders. "Be careful, all right? Ponta's right, he might be shady. If this is what you want, then that's fine. I just don't want him to do anything funny to you."

Natsume finally managed to smile, although he was still reeling from this two-pronged confrontation. "Thanks, Tanuma. I'll be fine. Natori-san...really isn't as weird as Nyanko-sensei likes to complain he is."

"You two looked so happy," Taki broke in, her eyes shining, and something suspiciously like a wobble in her voice. "I - I'm so glad, Natsume-kun!"

"Ah," Natsume said, wishing he could ice his face. "Er. Thanks, Taki."

Then it occurred to him, and he stared at his two friends.

"Why were you in the forest together, anyway?"

An awkward silence descended.

"We...happened to meet on the way back, and...it was a nice day," Tanuma mumbled, not looking at Taki.

"Um, for a walk," Taki added, the pink in her cheeks noticeably deeper.

Natsume looked back and forth at the two of them, in growing realisation, and felt a dose of slyness creep into the smile taking over his face.

"Don't worry, I won't tell Nishimura," he said, cheerfully, not missing the look of relief that spread over Tanuma's face. "And - I'm happy for you, too."

 

[title reference: [Perfume (2014)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=th8H34qOk30)]


	4. Frayed Ends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Matoba and Natori talk in a cafe while in knitwear. It doesn't go well, depending on whose perspective you take.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> @killjoyras kindly obliged my drawing prompt for [turtleneck!Natori](https://twitter.com/killjoyras/status/922798816092393473), so then I had to write this snip because they did. And then they further produced this [pullover!Matoba(Seiji)](https://mobile.twitter.com/killjoyras/status/923796290907049984) :3 #meninknits

 

"What's this 'business' you called me out to a cafe to discuss?"

"So cold, Shuuichi-san," the man sitting across from him said. He took a delicate sip of his tea. His long black hair was tied back in a slim ponytail, and a strip of cloth shielded his right eye. It appeared white, but those with spirit powers could see it was inscribed with sinister-looking calligraphic symbols. 

"Must we start with that? It's been almost a year since we last chatted." 

"We were both at the meeting two months ago."

"Well, we didn't talk there," Matoba calmly replied. "Or perhaps you forget that you left early? Nanase-san regretted not being able to catch up, too." 

He smiled, sweet and almost guileless. It didn't suit his current self at all. For a moment he could have been just Seiji again, a student in a pullover and jeans. The outfit retained a vague air of formality: it was all black, except for the white shirt underneath the pullover. Still, it made him look younger than the black kimono and suits he'd alternated between ever since assuming the duties of clan head. 

Which raised the point that he'd never been "just" Seiji, really. He'd simply given the Matoba part of himself a thorough and exclusive grooming in the years since high school.

Natori sighed, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. He rolled down the sleeves of his sweater, covering the lizard on his right arm. He'd been warm when entering the store, but now his bare skin was feeling distinctly chilly. He suspected it wasn't entirely due to the late autumn weather.  

"Get to the point." 

"If you insist, Shuuichi-san." Matoba's eyes glinted in amusement. "It's about something we're both interested in. Does that give you a hint? Or should I say, some _one_?"

"I wouldn't know what you're talking about," Natori said, his voice flat.

"I trust Natsume-kun is well?" He smiled again, but the curve of his lips had regained the cool opacity that marked the youngest ever head of the Matoba clan. 

It made you feel that it might be concealing a knife, Natori thought, not for the first time. The point was that you didn't know. 

"You've been spending a lot of time with him these days, Shuuichi-san. You always look like you're having fun, too. What an enviable state of affairs. I know how you feel, though. He's such an unusual boy, isn't he?"

"You give yourself too much credit if you think you know how I feel."

"Do I?" Matoba made a bow, slight and mocking. "My apologies. Allow me to be blunt, then. Perhaps you've heard that there's been a certain trend of various youkai looking for someone called Natsume Reiko? In order to reclaim their names from her, apparently." 

Natori went very still. Matoba studied him, dark eyes unblinking.

"Apparently she was very powerful, which she must have been, if she managed to bind their names," he continued, in the same tones that other people used to talk about magazines or TV shows. "And don't you think it's...interesting? That Takashi-kun has the same surname."

He paused.

"You know what taking the names of youkai means, don't you?" 

Natori drained his tea. 

"I have nothing to share with the Matoba," he said at last. "As honoured as I am that their master himself came to consult me." 

"Is that so? What a shame," Matoba said, not sounding particularly surprised or upset. 

"And I need to get going, now," Natori continued. He pushed his chair back and stood up, gazing down with cold eyes. "But believe me, Matoba, I _will_  make you regret it if you bring him any harm."

"Understood, Shuuichi-san," Matoba said, lightly. "You should watch out for yourself too, though. The Matoba aren't the only ones who'll be interested in that boy."

Natori's face stiffened, but he turned away in silence.

"By the way, that grey turtleneck sweater suits you much better than that blue cardigan you used to wear all the time."

He didn't dignify that with a reply. Heading for the register, he heard a soft chuckle behind him. 

 


	5. Interlude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yorishima (manga chapter 80) and Natori (about 20 years old here), pre-series, post-coital. Entirely the fault of @killjoyras for [drawing Natori with a sexy back](https://twitter.com/killjoyras/status/924281915842187265), and their partner M for throwing around suggestions that a character who's only had something like 10 manga pages of series time so far Was A Thing In Natori's Past (it's...it's entirely too imaginable...)

  
  
They never spoke after they were done.

Natori was lying on his side, facing the wall with the window. He let his gaze wander, his mind pleasantly blank, and his body similarly languid. Outside, daylight was fading. Long shadows cast dark, slanted lines over the tatami mats, slightly worn with age.

Such a stark room, he thought. Its only furniture was a few shelves and flat zabuton cushions. It was the kind of room one entered in order to accomplish specific things, and refrained from lingering after.

He didn't mind, though. It was almost reassuring, in fact, how it was the kind of space that didn't expect you to stay.

The white sheets under him were still warm, but his sweat had dried, and his bare skin was cooling rapidly. He suppressed a sneeze and sat up, retrieving the under-robe of his kimono, which lay some distance away from the futon.

Yorishima, from behind, watched him in silence.

He'd heard from his shiki that Natori's alternate occupation was going well. Something about a TV series set by the beach (who would pay Natori to make such a thing, who would watch it, and why, were utter mysteries to him). In any case, that probably explained the slight tan on his face and arms. His back, in contrast, presented a smooth expanse of skin untouched by sun. It rose to the nape of his neck, where it was covered by soft strands of sandy brown hair, narrowing as it plunged to the base of his spine. Its long, lean, pale stretch was marred only by an uncanny black squiggle with a reptilian outline.

The creature had settled on his right shoulder blade, as if fitting itself to the contours of the bone underneath. Now it flickered slightly under Yorishima's gaze, twitching its tail as if it somehow sensed the weight of his eyes.

Natori, aware he was being observed, smiled to himself. He slid the heavy black cotton of his robe up his back and over his shoulders, obscuring the lizard from view. He located his socks and slipped them on. Then he stood up, still facing away as he pulled on his briefs and picked up the tie belt for the under-robe.

Yorishima observed him wrap and fold and secure the fabric, moving on to the same steps with the dark brown outer robe and its gray obi. Natori's fingers were swift and sure, with no unnecessary movements; he probably carried out his exorcisms in similar fashion.

He used his free hand to push himself up on the futon, and ran it over his hair. He wanted a bath.

"You'll catch a cold if you don't put something on," Natori remarked. He'd turned around, his dressing complete. Now he knelt, picking up Yorishima's under-robe, and held it out to him.

"I'm not so weak that I require your concern, Natori." Nonetheless, he shrugged the robe on over his shoulders, adjusting it under the cloth of the sling that held his bandaged arm. It throbbed slightly, from no physical cause. They both knew that he wouldn't be able to dress himself until Natori left.

Natori threw him a guileless smile. "You never know, Yorishima-san."

"It's a hundred years too early for you to take that tone with me, brat."

"My sincerest apologies," Natori said, laughing softly. He got to his feet again. "Please don't bother to get up - I'll show myself out."

"Don't bother to come back, either."

"Yes, yes."

Footsteps creaked on the staircase, and the scraping noise of the front door sliding shut soon followed.

Yorishima exhaled deeply, a sudden sense of weariness creeping over him. It's about time to finish this, he thought.

Soon he would send out notice that the Yorishima were leaving the exorcist business. It wouldn't come as a surprise to the Matoba, or any of the other clans whose shiki doubled as spy networks, of course. No doubt they were all just waiting for him to announce it. Thinking about that galled him. But it was still the right decision, regardless.

Natori, he suspected, would be upset that the rumours of his departure were true. No matter. Young people needed to deal with their own affairs and to stay out of others'. Natori had grown in experience and reputation over the past couple of years. He didn't need watching over, whatever he chose, and whoever he chose to become. 

He caught himself, and shook his head. Obviously, Natori's business was none of his concern. Things had come to a pretty pass, if he was thinking such sentimental rubbish.

"I really am getting old," Yorishima said aloud to the empty room. He got to his feet, and prepared to deal with his arm.  



	6. Ishida Akira Can't Sing

  
"What are you up to this weekend, Natsume?"

"I'm heading into town for a concert."

"Oh, really? That's great. Who's performing?"

"Ah, um. Natori-san..."

Tanuma fell silent.

"He - he gave me a ticket!" Natsume protested, fidgeting.

"Have a good time, I guess," Tanuma said at last. "I'm sure the girls will be jealous of you."

He paused again. "Natsume...have you actually *heard* him sing before?"

"Yeah," Natsume weakly replied. "Taki lent me CDs."

"Is that so." Tanuma scratched his head, and sighed, looking pensive. "Well...I guess they do say love is blind, huh?"

"Blind AND deaf," Nyanko-sensei supplemented, nodding sagely.

Natsume dropped him, prompting an outraged series of threats. Tanuma laughed, gently clapping him on the shoulder. "I think Ponta has a point."

"Whatever," Natsume mumbled, and continued walking, quickening his stride. Tanuma picked Nyanko-sensei up, and they followed him in a trail of amused noises. Natsume, yelling back at them to be quiet, was predictably ignored.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> because @killjoyras brought up the phenomenon that is also this drabble's title, and we agreed Natsume is basically enough of a sucker to listen to said Ishida Akira AKA Natori (try to) sing, while having enough irony in him to appreciate his own lovestruckness, especially when confronted by friends. **^^**


	7. Slip of the Tongue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natori discovers he has to be careful with pillow talk. NSFW content warning.

  
"You know, I don't actually like sex all that much," Natori said. He sounded thoughtful. Then he yawned, and pushed stray hairs out of his eyes, as if he hadn't just said something utterly inapposite for post-coital aftercare.   
  
Natsume, lying next to him in a tangle of sheets and discarded clothing, stared.  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"But I do with you," Natori said, glancing over at him. He wasn't sparkling. There was a smile on his face, slight but disarming.  
  
Natsume, feeling the beginnings of a blush, rolled over to face away. The movement reminded him that his pelvis was still tender. Thankfully, it didn't hurt the way it had done the first few times. He hadn't told Natori about any of that, of course, although he knew Natori had guessed. Probably he hadn't been able to keep from wincing afterwards.  
  
"I mean it," he heard Natori say. A hand placed itself on his waist, just over the curve of his hip, and a light kiss dropped onto the back of his neck.  
  
"Sure you do," Natsume muttered.  
  
"I wouldn't do any of what I just did unless I really wanted to, Takashi."  
  
He could feel his heart start to speed up at the memory of the last third or so of an hour ago. It had started with kissing. It had somehow moved on to Natori's head between his legs, where he'd used his mouth and his tongue in ways that had made him short-circuit with pleasure. It had progressed, after he'd come close to climaxing, into more kissing. There had been an interlude, where Natori had fished out the tube and the box that had become accessories to their nightlife, applying their contents to himself. Then long, gel-slippery fingers had pressed themselves into somewhere he still felt strange thinking about, until they'd reached a spot inside him, stroking until he was sent over the edge (even as a small part of him always worried about leaving stains on the sheets). And then Natori had taken away his fingers and replaced them with that hot, large part of himself that thrust into him, slow and deep at first, faster and shallower towards the end, his lean body over him filmed with sweat, his voice calling _Takashi, Takashi_  as it *throbbed* -  
  
"Takashi? Are you asleep?"  
  
Now there was a note of amusement in that voice. Natsume became aware of how, in addition to his cheeks being on fire, he just might be getting hard again.  
  
"It's not fair of you to talk about having experience doing this," he mumbled.  
  
"But I haven't actually topped with anyone else before!" Natori protested.  
  
He blinked, his blush fading as his mental gears lurched to a halt, and rolled back to stare at Natori.  
  
"*What*?"  
  
Natori clapped a hand to his mouth, brow furrowing. Natsume, putting two and two together, couldn't stop the grin that spread over his face.  
  
"Wow, so you're reversible, Shuuichi-san?"  
  
"Takashi, you shouldn't jump to conclusions -"  
  
"Do I get to top next time, then?"  
  
"I don't know about that -"  
  
"Looking forward, Shuuichi-san," Natsume said, very sweetly, ignoring the distinctly distressed look creasing his face. He leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. "Don't worry, I'll learn."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the run-up to their first time, see [Slow, Slow, Quick, Quick](http://archiveofourown.org/works/12960771).

**Author's Note:**

> With thanks to maja (@killjoyras), once again, for sharing squee and fandom conversations and art for pretty much all of this <3
> 
> If you're wondering why this is Vignettes II, you're also welcome to take a look at Vignettes I (the first series of snips I wrote for Natori and Natsume way back when) here: <http://archiveofourown.org/works/907883>


End file.
